


Malik Gets Around

by mustachio



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-13
Updated: 2012-07-13
Packaged: 2017-11-09 20:54:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/458267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mustachio/pseuds/mustachio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 drabbles of Malik with 5 different Assassin's Creed characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Malik Gets Around

**yusuf tazim.**

Yusuf Tazim has always been a fan of teasing those around him. That fact does not change in the bedroom.

Malik sucks in a breath through gritted teeth, face flushed, and breath coming out in short, labored pants. Yusuf blows another puff of cool air at Malik's cock and laughs when the other man's grip tightens in his hair.

"Enough teasing. Get on with it."

His voice comes out in a rasp, strained from lust. The words get another laugh from Yusuf, who rests his hands on the Syrian's thighs. Malik bucks his hips up, anticipation and need controlling his actions now, and it's all the invitation Yusuf needs to lower his mouth around Malik's cock and give him what he wants.

**altair ibn-la'ahad.**

It's always a war with them - one always needs to prove his worth to the other, to prove that he is the better Assassin, the better man. It's always the same result. In arguments of words, one always wins, on the battlefield, it's the other. But even at the end, neither of them are really convinced that there has been a true victor, though. There is always something else that needs to be said, another punch that needs to be thrown.

Before either of them are ever satisfied, they always end up in a naked tangle of limbs on the bed. Their kisses are always too much teeth, touches too hard, thrusts too erratic. This is still part of the battle, part of the struggle to see who will finally manage to come out on top.

Altair thrusts in dry and Malik hisses in pain. It _hurts_ , but the pain is welcome. It doesn't feel _right_ without the pain. They don't know how to live without it. Malik angles himself to push back against Altair, needing to feel as much of him as he can.

"Harder, novice."

There is no verbal response. There is only compliance to the other's demands and the sounds of his erratic breathing to show that he is affected by this.

Their simultaneous release comes soon after and his silence is broken with a loud moan from deep in his throat. He collapses next to Malik, both of them panting, both of them exhausted, and still, neither are convinced that there has been any victor.

**kadar al-sayf.**

It's wrong, Malik knows this for a fact. It's wrong and he should stop, but the problem is that he _can't_. The sight of his brother spread out naked before him, the look on his face, the sound of his moans are too intoxicating for him to be able to stop.

He presses a soft kiss to Kadar's lips before guiding himself in. He starts out slow, sensual in a way that he never could be with anyone else. He buries himself as deep as he can, not moving any more until he can feel Kadar arching into him, a sign that he wants more. He always tries to control himself at first. He tries to keep from going too hard or too fast or too _something_ , but it never lasts beyond the first minute.

"Brother..."

It feels exactly what it is to be called that now - it feels wrong and disgusting and he knows he shouldn't want this, but then Kadar is moaning out his name and those thoughts are pushed from his mind. Who cares that it's wrong when it's so good? Who cares about what some mysterious God will think of them? He _needs_ this and if he can read his brother at all, he is certain that Kadar feels the same way. He finds his finish still inside of his brother, releasing into him, and riding out his orgasm with a few last thrusts.

Malik falls next to his brother, pulling him closer, and holding Kadar against him. He is exahausted and half asleep, but manages to hear the soft "I love you, Brother" and returns the sentiments before drifting off.

**ezio auditore da firenze.**

Malik might be the Master Assassin, but there are somethings even he cannot teach Ezio. Ezio who, in all his short years, has already had much more experience with the more intimate aspects of life than Malik has had. It is a fact very apparent in the way Ezio's tongue flicks over the head of Malik's cock, his lips just barely circling around it before pulling back and smirking up at Malik.

Malik glares down at him, he is near breathless, just barely containing the moans that threaten to escape his lips, and gripping the nearby desk so hard it is a wonder that section has not been reduced to tiny shards of wood. Ezio takes Malik's cock into his mouth again, taking a little more in this time, but barely making any more progress before moving away again. He is teasing - no, torturing his partner in the worst of ways.

Malik's glare only stops when his eyes squeeze shut, the feeling of the cool air in quick succession to the warmth of Ezio's mouth around him again almost becoming too much. This cannot continue on any longer. Just as Ezio is about to pull away again, Malik removes his grip from the desk and transfers it to the Italian's hair and thrusts into his mouth.

If Ezio is caught off guard by this, he manages to keep is reaction a well hidden secret (or maybe Malik is just too distracted to notice). He bobs his head up and down on Malik's cock, tongue moving in ways that make containing those moans one of the hardest things Malik has ever done. Malik ends up coming in Ezio's mouth, not letting his hand fall from his hair until he is certain his orgasm is finished.

Ezio takes a moment to spit off to the side before looking back at Malik with a smirk on his lips.

**leonardo da vinci.**

Malik stares down at Leonardo on his knees in front of him, taking in the sight of the lines and curves drawn onto his torso. The streets of Jerusalem have never looked more beautiful than they do on this man.

The paint on Malik's skin his cool, stimulating in a way he wouldn't have ever thought it could be. Leonardo blows against his skin, both to dry the paint and to get a reaction from his human canvas. He lets his head fall back against his shoulders, a contented noise managing to make it's way out of his mouth. It's a strange thing to hear when everything else at the moment is deathly silent.

The silence is broken again when Leonardo finishes his painting, blowing once again to help the drying process and allowing a satisfied smile to form on his lips.

"There. Finished."

Malik helps Leonardo to stand, each examining the result of their efforts with a critical eye. There is not an area on either of their bodies that hasn't been marked in some way - even the scarred flesh of what remains of Malik's left arm has been covered. One is filled with the streets and buildings of Jerusalem and the other with various ideas and inventions never thought of by anyone else before. 

They move in closer when their examinations are finished - when they are sure there has never been a more beautiful map or a more stunning painting - mouths coming together in a searing kiss and hands roaming over the lines of their respective works.


End file.
